Troubles of a Winchester
by EvieFortune
Summary: This takes place in 1997 when the Winchesters were in high school. Sam and Dean are dropped off at school, for a few weeks, while John goes on a dangerous hunt. But while John is gone, Sam and Dean's classmates start dying in strange ways.


**This take place in 1997 when the Winchesters were in high school. ****Sam and Dean are dropped off at school, for a few weeks, while John goes on a dangerous hunt. But while John is gone, Sam and Dean's classmates start dying in strange ways.**

Driving up to the school was the worst part. All the stares and judgmental looks gave Sam vertigo. He'd think he'd be used to this by now. How many schools had he gone to? He'd lost count. He had concluded that being the new kid was never easy. For him anyways.

Sam watched as Dean gave a group of girls his famous lopsided grin and wink look, Sam wished he had brother's confidence, how did he get along in a new school so easily?

_'Stop feeling sorry for yourself soldier, that's an order,' _Sam's father would probably say. His father had enforced so many commands and expectations on him through the years, that they were permanently edged into his brain. Making it so that even when he wasn't there, he was there.

"Yes sir," Sam whispered under his breath, Dean gave him a bewildered look.

"You alrigh' Sammy?" He asked putting his arm around Sam's shoulders and shaking him. Sam grimaced.

"Yeah I'm fine. where did dad say he was going again?" He added the last part to lighten the mood, he didn't really care, but he knew Dean loved taking about anything that had to do with hunting.

"He's hunting a Arachne up in New York, the damn creepy crawly has been turning people, it might take a few weeks." Sam noticed Dean become bitter at the last part, a look of longing in there too, a look Sam didn't understand when it came to hunting.

Sam hated hunting, he hated every bit of it, why would anyone want to kill monsters? It was a mystery to him. What Sam wanted more then anything was leave this life when he turned eighteen, and go to school, get a shot at a normal life.

A normal life, that was a foreign word to Sam, his life had never been normal, since before he could remember his life had been on the road. Sam's dad had taught Sam how to shoot a gun at the age of six, how to kill someone with your bare hands by eight. They were trained like warriors.

"Sammy? Earth to Sammy.." Sam was taken out of his thoughts by Dean waving his hand over his face. Sam pushed Dean's hand, Dean frowned, "You okay Sammy?"

"Yeah I'm fine, we should probably be getting to class though," Sam said, trying to hide his uneasiness. Dean looked unconvinced, but luckily for Sam the bell rang just then.

"Well see you later, Sam!" Dean yelled, as he ran off to class.

"Mr. Winchester would you like to share any thing about yourself?" Sam's new teacher, Ms. Audley said, with a big obviously fake smile on her chubby face.

_'Yes of course, Miss, you see me and my family kill monsters, for revenge against the one who killed my mom in my nursery when I was a baby! Doesn't that sound like the life?' _Sam thought, a wicked smile appeared on his face as he imagined the horror-struck look his peers would have.

_'Don't be reckless soldier, that's an order,' _right on cue. God his father's voice just wouldn't leave him alone would it?

"Not really," it sounded rehearsed, probably because Sam has been saying that reply, since he found out his dad was a hunter and not a mechanic, like he told everyone, but the class didn't notice, they probably weren't even listening.

Sam took a seat at the back of the class, and tried without success to concentrate on what the teacher said, he'd already learned this in September. Being in eight districts in the past six months had his tolls, and for some reason, every English class he'd been in seemed to want to start this subject whenever he came to town. It was annoying.

Sam let his mind drift off, he thought back to last week, life was finally starting to seem normal, (well as normal as Sam's life could be), he had made a group of friends, and he was fitting in. But as always his dad decided to move him and Dean, at the worst possible time, as soon as they were beginning to have a life.

_'Stop whining, whining is for the weak!_' Sam heard his father say, why was he hearing his dad's voice so much today? Maybe he was going crazy. Like Uncle Bobby's friend, Martin, no, Sam had never witnessed anything as horrendous as Albuquerque, his stress was probably just getting the best of him.

As soon as the bell rang for lunch, Sam rushed to the office, he still need a locker. When he got there, a tall, pretentious looking woman sat at her desk, writing something down, she wore glasses with a chain attached to it like an librarian, her red hair tied in a tight knot.

"Hello, my name is Sam Winchester, I'm new here and I need a locker," Sam said, fidgeting at his shirt. The woman gave him an intimidating look.

"Yes, I know who you are. Here's your locker number and combo, good luck," she said in a conservative voice, a bit of condescend snuck in there, though most wouldn't notice.

"Thanks," Sam muttered, before leaving to find his locker. He spotted Dean across the room, in a group of around ten, already popular, typical.

"Yo Sammy," Dean called out gesturing for Sam to come over. Sam came up to the group of seniors. Dean smiled and ruffled Sam's hair.

"Guys, this is my lil' brother, Sammy, Sammy, guys,"

"Hi Sammy," they all muttered at the same time, all in the same _'I don't give a crap, I just wanna smoke some pot' tone of voice.'_ He said hi then left, still determined to find his locker.

After he finally found his locker, Sam headed to the cafeteria, trying to find an empty table to sit in. Though while contemplating whether to sit in the corner, near the druggy people, or at a empty table near the Goths, he bumped into someone.

"I'm so, sorry! Are you okay," a voice asked him. Sam looked up, to find a really pretty girl.

"Yeah, it's fine, it was my fault," Sam said, embarrassed. He could fell the blood rushing to his cheeks. She looked at Sam.

"By the way who are you?" She asked.

"Sam, Sam Winchester."

"Well Sam I'm assuming your new because I've never seen you before, so do you want to sit with my and my friends?" Her big blue eyes looked at him with plead, she must've felt really bad. Sam felt a sense of relief, maybe he could make friends.

"Yeah sure, thanks."


End file.
